In The Dark Places
by DiaryofSomeone
Summary: A new case brings up some old secrets that are better left buried. Not slash or I am not planning on having it but we'll see where it takes us .M for dark themes, ie rape, child molestation, murder and kidnapping. Don't like don't read. You've been warned
1. Preface

Criminal Minds – In the Dark Places

**So this is my first Criminal Minds fanfic I hope you enjoy it and, yes, it's pretty dark but that's just what I usually write. I do watch the TV show but I haven't seen them all so I might not go exactly to the plot but I'm trying to keep it as close as possible, with my own twists and ideas. So enjoy!**

**I don't own Criminal Minds.**

Chapter 1 – Preface

_In darkness one may be ashamed of what one does, without the shame of disgrace__ ~ Sophocles _

He sat there in utter darkness. The only sounds he could hear were his ragged breath and frantic heart beat. That was when he realized he was alone, completely cut off by the outside world. There was nothing he could do but sit in the corner, legs pulled up to his chest, and wait for someone to find out he was missing.

Slowly, he shifted slightly from the fetal position, his legs having gone numb from sitting in the same spot for at least a few hours. _I don't even know how long I've been in here. Will mom know I'm gone before it's too late?_ And for the third time that night he broke down into an uncontrollable sob.

Suddenly the room flooded with light. He squinted and rubbed his eyes feverishly, trying to wipe away all his tears; the man didn't like it when he cried. With his still tear-filled eyes, he could only see a dark shape looming towards him. The man tisked.

"What did I tell you about crying, boy?" The man said as he grabbed the boy's shirt, roughly dragging him up to his feet. The pins-and-needles feeling coursing his legs caused him to stumble. The man quickly caught him and held him close. He could smell the man's cologne along with that scent of musky sweat and a dash of alcohol.

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, unable to meet the man's gaze.

The man sighed and leaned in closer, "Do I need to punish you?" But the boy couldn't help but notice his underlying tone. It sent shivers down his spine.

"No! I mean, please don't. I promise I won't do it again. Just…please," he begged.

"You have to remember, I'm only doing this because you need to learn that if you've been bad you have to be punished." The man whispered in his ear. He began to pull off the boy's shirt.

For the first time in encounter, the boy looked up at the man with pleading eyes. The man's young features had a hard, but tranquil mask as he took off the rest of the boys clothes. The boy bit his tongue to keep his cries and pleas from escaping. He knew better than to make a sound like the last time. When he had cried out at the sudden bite on his collar bone, the man had grabbed a knife, his favourite instrument of torture, and held it to his throat for the entire 'lesson'. He had gotten may cut and scrapes all along his neck that he had had a difficult time explaining.

Now he knew better. _Just stay quiet and do what he wants and I'll live,_ he boy kept reiterating in his head.

Once he was completely naked the man ordered him look at him. The boy saw the all too familiar hungry leer in the man's haunting blue eyes. And the large bulge in his jeans. The boy gulped as the man discarded his belt and slid his pants down to his knees. He sat down on a wooden chair he had pulled over from the wall and motioned for the boy to come forward.

He took tentative steps to the man, wanting to hiss in pain as his bare feet scratch against the rough concrete floor of the basement.

"Kneel," he barked.

The boy's eyes widened but did as he was told. _This isn't how it's supposed to happen._

"Open your mouth." The man ordered. _Just stay quiet and do what he wants and I'll live_, the boy thought again and did as he was told.

The man's callused hand snaked around his head and brought him down to the tip before shoving him down completely. The boy flailed and coughed and gagged, throwing out any previous thoughts of survival, just to get large object out of his mouth. The man told him to calm down but he just put his hands on the man's thighs and threw himself backwards.

Once he had crashed to the floor, shredding his elbows and lower back, and stopped coughing there was an eerie quiet, like the calm before the storm. The hairs on the back of the boy's neck rose as he looked at the man.

At first the man sat in shock, so surprised by the boy's actions. He soon become furious and leaped to the boy, screaming, "How dare you defy me, you little piece of shit?"

The boy started crying again, "Please, I'm s-sorry. I didn't kn-know…I didn't want-"

The man let out a psychotic laugh. "You didn't want what? You filthy little faggot! You know you want me! Why do you cum if you don't want it?" He spat on the boy before reaching down to grasp him. After a few fast pumps the boy felt himself harden. He fought against his body but it had betrayed him and he soon, shamefully, came. Closing his eyes, the boy's tears flowed faster and his chest heaved with the sobs that tore through his body.

"See," the man sneered. "You disgusting queers just want to get it wherever you can." He grabbed his knife again and pressed it to the boy's chest. "I'm gonna make sure you _never_ forget what you are," he said as he cut the knife into his chest.

The boy hissed but kept still, knowing that any fighting at this point would be more of a hindrance than a help.

Warm blood spilled down his chest, dripping onto the floor as the man dragged the knife in three letters, F-A-G. He cut deep enough so that they would be permanently scarred but they wouldn't kill him.

Once he had finished, he leaned back. "You're nothing without me," he whispered as he admired his handiwork. "Come on, say it."

The boy took a shaky breath. "I'm nothing."

The man smiled, as sick, twisted grin. "Now where were we?...Oh right." He picked up the boy and penetrated him in one quick motion.

The boy screamed at the burning pain. When he started thrusting in and out the boy began to lose consciousness. The pain was too intense for him to handle.

_Please! Just kill me!_ He thought as he fell into the cold embrace of the darkness.

**Please review, even if it's criticism (And I mean constructive criticism not things like "Stop writing. You suck.")**

**Thanks for reading. This is a multi chapter story and I'll try to update at least once a week but life can sometimes get in the way. **


	2. Late For Work

Criminal Minds – In the Dark Places

**I don't own Criminal Minds.**

Chapter 2 - Bringing Up The Past

_Confession is always weakness. The grave soul keeps its own secrets, and takes its own punishment in silence. ~ Dorothy Dix_

The moment Dr. Spencer Reid walked into the bullpen he knew they had a case. Everyone's desks were vacant and the blinds were drawn in the conference room.

_Shit! The one morning I'm late we have a case._ Reid thought as he quickly made his way to the rest of his team. By the time he got to the door he heard SSA Aaron Hotchner say, "Wheels up in 30." He had missed the meeting. Taking a deep breath, he was prepared to explain his absence when Hotch gave him that we'll-talk-later look. However, Derek Morgan seemed to be oblivious to the exchange.

"Wow. Our genius boy is late! Did hell freeze over?" He joked. Everyone looked over at Reid with a questioning stare. He was never late, not ever.

Before anyone else was able to say anything Hotch stood up and grabbed Reid's arm. "We need to talk. In my office," he ordered.

It was a quick walk down the hall as Hotch led the way. But he knew the drill. It happened whenever he did something out of the ordinary, though ordinary was never a word used to describe the young doctor unless it started out with 'not,' 'never,' or 'isn't.' He knew he had to be careful. He worked with profilers; they could tell when something bothered him. And a lot of things bothered him; a certain case, someone touching him, his mother, the still ever present urge for dilaudid and anything else that triggered some memory in his eidetic mind – his personal blessing and curse.

Hotch gestured for him to sit in the chair across from his desk. "Are you doing okay, Reid?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Spencer said for the 136th time month, and it was only the 18th. _That meant I said it 7.5555555… a day._

He sighed. "You know you can talk to me, right? If there is anything you need, we're all here for you." When Reid nodded, he continued. "I need to make sure everyone the team is okay. It's a hard job and sometimes we have to ask for help. That's okay. No one expects you to do this on your own."

Spencer sat there listening to Hotch's speech, one that he had heard one too many times. He was constantly bombarded with 'We're all here for you,' and 'You're not alone.'

Once Hotch finished, he asked, "How is your mother?" It was the usual routine. He'd ask about his mother, about his sleeping patterns, if he had nightmares, and finally, if he would ask if he was taking or had the urge to take drugs. That final one bothered Reid the most. Even though he did have the occasional crave for opioids, it angered him that just because he was 14 minutes and 37 second late for work Hotch thought he was on drugs again.

"Hotch," Reid interrupted, "I'm fine." _137._ "My mother is fine. Everything is _fine_. I just spilt coffee on myself this morning and then my car battery died, so I had to wait for Richard, my neighbour, to come out and jump start it." He took a breath. "I was going to call but I didn't want to call while driving. Did you know that talking on cell phones cause nearly 25% of car accidents, and it is calculated that 2,600 people die each year as a result of using cell phones while driving and other 330,000 are injured?"

"Okay," Hotch said, interrupting another soon to be long rant of unless that Reid was known for. "Next time call _before _you start driving."

"Yes, sir." Reid swiftly left his office not knowing whether or not Hotch believed him or not. But Reid knew it was a lie. No precious coffee was spilt, his car was fine, and he had used his cell phone while driving many times.

The truth was Spencer Reid hadn't been sleeping well, especially in the last few days. Every time his eyes slipped closed images of bloodied bodies, serial killers, and anything that goes bump in the night fills his mind. He knew his job was getting to him. But he wanted, or needed, to help people, no matter the risks. Even if it was his sanity.

So, the night before, actually really very early that morning, when Spencer finally fell asleep, he forgot to set his alarm. When he woke up late he was behind in his usual schedule. It was as simple as that. However, working with profilers, it was never that simple. He knew they would ask why he slept in, what was keeping him up, and every other question he didn't want to answer.

Once he made it his desk he saw Morgan smirked.

"You get in trouble, Pretty Boy?"

"No. I didn't." He sighed and quickly changed the subject with a, "So where is the case?"

Morgan's smile grew even larger. "Las Vegas, Nevada."

Reid froze. _This is the last thing I need right now_, he thought. Hastily, he turned to Morgan, put on his façade he had gotten so used to and said, "It would be nice to see my mom."

Once they got on the plane Reid put his go-bag in the luggage compartment and sat down at the table, trying to get comfortable. JJ handed over a case file to Reid before turning back to Emily.

Reid's body went completely rigid in the minute it took him to read it over.

The bodies of five boys, between the ages of 9-13, were found in wooded areas in some of the local parks. They had been kidnapped, severely beaten, and sexually assaulted. All the boys had the word _fag_ cut into their chest just before they were killed. The first boys, Paul Laing and Alexander Williams, had been taken from the playground on the weekends and kept in an unknown location for four days. The other three boys, Tyler Harrison, Blake Simms and Daniel Thomas, were taken before they arrived at school. They were also kept for four days.

"…looks like the Unsub has a full-time job. All the boys were taken before and after regular business hours." Morgan's voice brought Reid out of his trance-like state.

Hotch nodded, "Okay, when we get to the station, I need…"

Reid continued to sit there, pretending to listen, as he felt his nausea rising through his body. Absently, his fingers traced an all too familiar pattern on his chest before closing his eyes and mentally preparing himself for the case to come.

**Hope you've enjoyed this so far. Review please! **


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